


Together

by thevaliantdust



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 11:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5089214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thevaliantdust/pseuds/thevaliantdust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vox Machina make it back to their hideout to deal with the consequences. Takes place after episode 29.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

Somehow they make it back to their tavern hideout without any real trouble. Well, any external trouble. All joviality they experienced in their victory over Stonefell has by now been overshadowed by the slowly sinking realisation that there is something very dark and slightly terrifying going on with their friend. The uncharacteristic quiet over the whole group is the biggest indicator of their shared concerns. The gunslinger is quietest of all, running his fingers obsessively over the deep gouges in the barrel of his pepperbox.

Percy trails the group, barely looking up out of his haze to dodge obstacles nevermind evade capture. Keyleth walks slightly in front of him, doing a terrible job of covering her worried looks in his direction. Leaving Vex to scout ahead, Vax hovers in the middle of the group, eyes flitting between his disheartened friends with concern and no small feeling of helplessness.

As they arrive back, Scanlan and Grog immediately take off to the cellar, no doubt to crack open a cask of wine. Percy heads upstairs and after a moment Keyleth follows. Vax catches his sister’s eye, a look of uneasy understanding passes between them. **I’ll take watch on the first floor,** she says, tilting her head meaningfully towards the staircase their friends had just climbed, her voice only just betraying her slight resentment. She knows Vax is far better equipped to deal with all these high strung emotions. As long as he manages not to put his foot in it like last time he tried to reason with Keyleth-

Vex grins to herself as she recalls her brother’s pining looks following that conversation. He’d never wanted to take back any words as much as the ones he’d spoken that day. Signalling to Trinket, she walks towards the window overlooking that godsforsaken tree and makes herself comfortable.

Vax silently takes the stairs, years of experience making him lightfooted. He reaches the top of the stairs and pauses in the doorway of the first room, suddenly doubting his choice to follow Percy and Keyleth up here. They’ve obviously been talking, at least Keyleth has. Percy stands facing the window, arms locked and hands fiercely gripping the wooden sill. Keyleth is behind him, an expression of such pain and worry on her face it makes Vax’s chest ache to look at her.

Her hand rests lightly on Percy’s shoulder for a moment before he shrugs it off dismissively. Something about this tiny act of aggression sets Vax’s blood boiling and for a split second he wants to run in there and give Percival a piece of his mind. Just as quickly the moment passes and an entirely different ache settles in his chest when he remembers what Percy is going through. Face softening, he steps into the room with a conscious effort to make his footfalls heard.

The two of them, stuck in a pattern of intense stares- Keyleth at Percy and Percy at the floor- turn their heads as they hear Vax’s deliberate steps. He can’t quite read Keyleth’s expression, relief, annoyance, surprise, he’s not sure, but Percy’s face is a clear warning: back the fuck up, I’m not in the mood for a chat. Of course, Vax is nothing if not impulsive when he thinks he knows best. **Percy,** he begins in his familiar, soothing, voice-of-reason tone, **perhaps we should-**

Percy’s eyes are ablaze and Vax suddenly seems to realize he’s overstepped, braces himself for a verbal, or perhaps even physical fall out, when slight movement from Keyleth’s direction catches the corner of his eye. Percy seems to notice it too and somehow it tempers him, so that his reply is resigned instead of confrontational. **Not now, Vax,** he mutters, **just, not now**. The crippling weight in Percy’s voice stops Vax from pushing it any further.

With a final, almost-but-not-quite apologetic look at Keyleth, Percy turns and sweeps out of the room, disappearing down the hall into another room with a pointed click of the door lock. Vax half expects Keyleth to follow him out but instead she sits on the bed, her regal posture giving way to slumped shoulders and hands clasped in her lap. Vax is still, unsure what to do, until her searching gaze seeks him out, disarmed, pleading, full of loss and helplessness. In this moment he knows their thoughts are alike. They cannot bear to watch their friend, whom they care for as deeply as family, so close to the edge, so close to losing himself.

She reaches her hand towards him for the second time today and he allows himself a brief moment to bask in these small tokens of her forgiveness. He closes his hand around hers and takes a seat next to her on the bed. He knows better than to read into this touch. She lays her head against his shoulder and there is a long moment of quiet.

In the end, she’s the one to break it. **I don’t like this,** she blurts out, and if it weren’t for the dire situation he’d laugh at her candor. **Me neither, Kiki,** he affirms.

**I don’t know how to help him,** her voice is rising in pitch and she lifts her head from his shoulder to look him in the eye, **and he won’t say what it is… Vax, what if we lose him? What if he can’t come back from this, this- whatever it is?**

He wants to calm her, tell her it’ll all be alright, that there is nothing to worry about. But she’s no fool and he’s no liar. With his own worries about Percy bubbling to the surface, he takes a deep, shaky breath and stills her with a gentle touch on her wrist. **I don’t know,** he says slowly, painful honesty like a rich syrup on his breath. **But we’ll work it out together. All of us.**

He doesn’t need to gesture for her to understand his meaning. She nods in agreement, **we need him to tell us the truth. So we know what we’re up against.**

**He will. We can give him a moment to collect himself, and then he can tell us all.**

She nods again, eyes unfocused, mind a million miles away. Needing to bring her back to him, he nudges her hand again. **How are you? I meant to ask before but in all the mayhem…** He shakes his head, still not quite believing all that has happened.

**I’m fine,** she brushes him off bemusedly. **Really,** she assures him, reading his expression in a moment of uncharacteristic insight.

There is a part of him- a large part of him- that wants to pull her into his chest, hold her tight, stay up here in this abandoned tavern room and leave the rest of the world to sort it’s shit out. He wants to reach out and stroke her cheek, lean in for a gentle kiss, brush her hair behind her ear, anything to be close to her, anything to show her how he feels. But he’s not that selfish or that brave. He knows it’s not the time, with everything else going on, and if he’s honest with himself, he’s terrified of facing the truth out in the open. He sticks to the shadows for a reason.

So instead of any of this, he smiles the warmest smile he can manage, squeezes her tiny hand still in his and stands. **Why don’t we rally the troops downstairs and see if Percy is ready to talk?**

She follows his lead, allowing his slight tug on her hand to pull her up from the bed. **I’ll get Percy,** she offers and he nods. It takes him completely by surprise when her arms wrap around him, her head pressed against his heart, but he recovers quickly, his arms snaking around her as well. He’s not sure what has prompted this but he’s not about to complain.

After a moment she steps back, meets his gaze, and ducks past him out of the room. He notices, as she goes, her watery eyes and wonders briefly if that was the purpose of the hug- to hide her tears. He takes a moment to close his eyes, thinking desperately of his friends, his family, and sends up a thought, a prayer, a plea to whoever is listening: _let us get through this together._


End file.
